Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. McClintock liked it. A rare moment of amusement lightened Melusine’s mood for a moment. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. Section 3. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives.
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