Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. If you choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang yourself, Sir Rowland. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. He hated horizons. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. “Get me some brandy and my bag.
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