What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. “Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window.
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