‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. "To-morrow it will be mine. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. ‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. I have work there. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot. So Ruth returned to her room and sorted the books and magazines the doctor had loaned her, inspected the titles and searched for pictures.
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