Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. But his hand was withheld by Thames. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited. “Cheveney!” she repeated. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. That's how I finally got wind of it. "By George!" he exclaimed. Such stories were increasingly heard in English society. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy.
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