" Sir Rowland's brow darkened. In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. ” She said. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful. Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. He pushed her small hand into his jeans. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant.
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