"You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She was going through a new world with him side by side.
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