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The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. Wood turned to look at him. After all, that was life. “Yes, John. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter.
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