She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks. "She has," rejoined Sheppard. Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and threatening glance. ’ With an unexpected flush of pleasure, he recalled the girl’s antics. Come along home, Ruth.
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