‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. The stranger with a bow returned to his table. It was the largest room in the house, which was why it had been given over to the main business of the convent as a house of God. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. She would have to move on to a more lawless country soon, Mexico, Columbia, then cross the sea where she could eventually return to the chaos of Eastern Europe and the Russias. “As things are at present,” she said, “it is true. " "What say you, Sir?" said the Amazon, with an engaging leer at the stranger.
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