Gerald’s breath caught. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. He filled her glass with champagne. ‘You and Jarvis Remenham both, yes. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. We mustn’t make it so. “Get me some brandy and my bag. That’s how it takes me.
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