I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. He's a Welshman, and I wouldn't for a trifle that any accident befel him. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. Earles watched her anxiously.
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