The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly. She had been quite convinced that an engagement with him and at last a marriage had exactly that quality of compromise which distinguishes the ways of the wise. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. You are—horrible. Unless he has killed someone. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Death belongs to God, young man. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. A dovecoloured kincob gown, embroidered with large trees, and made very low in front, displayed to the greatest possible advantage, the rounded proportions of her figure; while a high-heeled, red-leather shoe did not detract from the symmetry of a very neat ankle, and a very small foot.
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