They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. "I was only commenting. “Kindly explain it to me. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. The villagers were thronging to church. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. His nose was large but also fine and angular, tapering to a point at the end like a nobleman’s. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Mrs. That window there….
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