" "No," answered the ruffian, moodily. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. The worst was over now. The thought of beauty became an obsession. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. ‘Merely making a useful contact.
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