"Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked.
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