“And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. ‘While we’re on the subject of age, it may be relevant to your claim to this house. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard. "I've won, after all. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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