She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. The moment they cease to be serviceable, or become dangerous he lodges an information, and the matter's settled. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. You cannot refuse me this. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl.
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