What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. . I have never spoken of these things to any human being. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. He urged his conductors to a quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of the little prison. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. .
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