Mr. " The spinsters had no counter-philosophy to offer; so they turned to Ruth, who had singularly and unconsciously invested herself with glamour, the glamour of adventure, which the old maids did not recognize as such because they were only tourists. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. "Mr. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard.
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