"Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. Here she seems to have developed into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I should ever have given her credit for. Anna sent her away. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. It was less will than education. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon.
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