There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. Meysey Hill—never your wife. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. ’ Then Hilary became serious again.
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