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The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. “The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. 25 <4> THE ARRIVAL OF THE BLACK DEATH He loved her many times, especially in the first month. Epithalamy might do. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. "I cannot scare him thence. It was impossible.
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