He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. “There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. She was so interested, and this was such a relief from the trudging anxiety of her search for work, that she went on for a whole week as if she was still living at home. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. ” “I will think of it,” she promised. .
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