CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. The boy was right. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. After quarter of an hour, she followed. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy.
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