I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. ‘I thank you. A crisis of some kind was toward.
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