Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. “Even Katy Pfister can’t touch you now. I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty. Why should some things and not others open the deeps?” “Well, that might, after all, be an outcome of selection—like the preference for blue flowers, which are not nearly so bright as yellow, of some insects. ‘I’m on your side. Vee’s all right. ’ ‘When you begin to tell the truth,’ Gerald told her severely, ‘I shall be happy to believe you. CHAPTER XIII. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. “I dare not,” she answered. She loved him. Seeing her improved mood, he had offered the Latin reading lesson strategically, knowing it would surprise her that he considered her capable.
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