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And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. That is so awful. She was honest again. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. There you are! Girl spoilt for life. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. The Return 231 II.
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