CHAPTER XIX. " The manager extended his hands at large, as if to deny any responsibility in the affair. You were very good. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. ‘You said it. But you must see her alone; and that'll be no easy matter to manage, for she's a great invalid, and has generally somebody with her. ” Lucy added, growing weary. I cannot explain beyond that.
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