’ ‘Sport!’ grumbled her betrothed, but he accompanied them across the ballroom all the same. They were sitting alone, Lucy. ” “I was late. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. But why did he turn away? "Wait!" Ruth called to her father.
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