He could not kiss Ruth. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds.
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