There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. Passing thought. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. 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. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. “Well, you’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room, but did I show you the basement?” He asked. She was watching him intently. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. We never supposed you helped yourself to a picture set with diamonds—not we!" "Is the guv'ner consarned in this job?" asked Terence, in a whisper. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. A door in this house opened upon the yard.
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