“All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. \"I'll have to ask Cathy, you know my foster mother? I have not been asked on a date before. I like such interviews. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind.
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