A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. "I'll see. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. . . She was nestled under his bedspread. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. What a heat that news had wrought. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable.
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