. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. So he liked to go by a different train. ‘This, as you see, is an identity for your cousin, André Valade. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.
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