They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. The day is already half over. She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. I will shed no more blood. I want to stand between you and all the force and vileness of the world. Taber. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation.
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