"You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. " "May be not," replied the old sailor, drily; "but you'll find it too stiff for you tonight, anyhow. These dinners, from their lavish display of ambiguous hors d’oeuvre to their skimpy ices in dishes of frilled paper, with their Chianti flasks and Parmesan dishes and their polyglot waiters and polyglot clientele, were very funny and bright; and she really liked Ramage, and valued his help and advice. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months.
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