" "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees. She pursued her interest in the Socialist movement and in the Suffragist agitation in the company of Miss Miniver. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. "I can, and will. It does not matter to him either way. . She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely.
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