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132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. He filled her glass with champagne. She found a little difficulty in beginning. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. With incredible labour, and by the aid of both spike and nail, he succeeded in getting the point of the bar beneath the fillet. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils.
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