Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me. Then we can loiter and gossip to our heart’s content. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She flew up from her stool and faced the door.
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