“Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. Gerald grinned. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl.
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