He remained talking with her however. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. Gerald’s breath caught. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. “Who will you stop with?” “I shall go on my own. I've a question to ask him.
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