He filled her glass with champagne. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. Wild," implored the turnkeys. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist.
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