“I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. I want you to be my lover. The last piece was Scheherazade. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. He drew compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold them. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners.
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