She went to her own table and sat down. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. She looked away. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. ‘If Major Alderley should happen to call, you may admit him also. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him.
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