Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. I felt suddenly I understood you—as an intelligent person. I’m okay. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night.
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