Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. During that period she has been a model of propriety. Here they would be having lunch. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill.
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