“My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. "Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. I am entirely English, as you know well. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. I am dreadfully sad. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task.
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