She refrained. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. . . The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. Three cars were lined up in the driveway. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction. She felt herself getting into a corner. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage.
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