She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. “Our marriage must be annulled. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all. “Well!” she declared good-humouredly. “I have been very selfish,” she declared. "Look at him!" Ruth looked.
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