The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. He got off on it. She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. But Jack was too nimble for him. He is Jacques. Ruth had not expected to be kissed; so the omission passed unnoted. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present.
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