CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Gracious, there’s the gong. And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. "Thames, this is no forgery. "What is this?" she wanted to know. “I don’t know why.
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