“I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. She held out both her hands. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. ‘And I am delighted to see that you are ready to admit that the Charvills—or rather the Valades—are indeed your affair.
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