She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. She had behaved in every way perfectly. His hesitation was visible, and Spurlock took advantage of this to run to Ruth.
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