She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. She was weeping now. ‘I find you excessively rude, both of you,’ said the lady crossly. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin.
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