" Ruth's eyes began to glow. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. And when Manning was not about the thing seemed simple enough. One always dreamed of this and never believed it. But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. I am not afraid that you may try to make love to me. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a few minutes. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. ‘Pitiful. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs.
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