” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. 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. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars.
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