" "Never," said Mrs. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. Are you quite shure you haven't another alyas, Masther Thames Ditton?" "Darrell, I tell you. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. Besides, it was under false pretences. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. He had thought it might have that effect.
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