She wished she had not stood up. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. The doctor turned quickly and made for the door, which he opened and shut gently because he was assured that Ruth was listening across the hall for any sign of violence. ’ Her hand shook as he took it in his, and she uttered involuntarily, ‘Oh, it was so horrible! They came like animals, with long knives that they use to cut grass, and heavy clubs. She will tell you all the story while I am gone. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. However, I daresay that we shall come across one another before long. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. E.
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