I'll remember that. It is the only way. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. “I’m still new to them. Gay," rejoined Jack.
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