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Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. We dressed it in a little music. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. .
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