I hope we may never find her again. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. Your mind is still subtly sick. Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. I was grounded for the last two weeks.
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