“All kinds of people marry. It still seems unfair to me that, after knocking about the way you have, you should marry anyone who doesn’t know the world pretty thoroughly.” “You mean I’m tarnished and should marry a woman who is tarnished. You don’t understand me, Cardover. My very knowledge of evil makes me worship feminine purity.” It was difficult to regard Lord Halloway as tarnished when you looked at his splendid body. His healthy physical handsomeness seemed an excuse for his transgressions. He upset all your ideas of the degrading influences of immorality. After Christmas I had Ruthita down to stay at Oxford. We were walking along the tow-path towards Iffley on the afternoon of her arrival, when the Lazarus Eight went by. Halloway was mounted, riding along the bank, shouting orders to the cox. As he passed us, he recognized Ruthita. I saw her color flame up. She halted abruptly, following him with her eyes round the bend of the river. “Shall we meet them again if we go on?” I told her we should be certain to meet them, as they would turn at Iffley Lock. “But I don’t want to meet them.” Then, in a whisper, “I’m afraid of him, Dante.” We retraced our steps to Folly Bridge and walked out to Hinksey to avoid him. “You’re an odd little creature, Ruthie. Why on earth should you be afraid of him? He can’t do you any harm.” “It’s his eyes. When he looks at me so hard, I forget all that I know about him, and begin to like him. And then, when he’s gone, I come to myself and feel humiliated.” Now that I had found someone who would run him down, I changed sides and began to plead his cause. “Seems to me it’s a bit rough on the chap to remember his old faults. He’s quite changed.” “But the woman at Ransby hasn’t,” she retorted bitterly. “He didn’t leave her a chance.” It was pleasant having Ruthita with me. I liked to hear the swish of her skirts as she walked, and to feel the light pressure of her hand upon my arm. She spoke with her face tilted up to mine. It was such a tiny face, so emotional and innocent. The frost in the air had brought a color to her cheeks and a luster to her hair. She loved to make me feel that she was my possession for the moment; I knew that I pleased her when I used her as though she were all mine. We treated one another with frank affection. “D’you ever hear from Vi?” she asked. “Never.” “It was awfully strange the way she left Ransby--so suddenly, without saying good-by. I had just one little note from her before she sailed; that was all. I’ve written to her several times since then, but she’s never answered.” I turned the subject by saying, “What’s this about Uncle Obad? Is he giving up the boarding-house?” “Yes, he’s going down into Surrey to raise fowls. He’s already got his farm. Aunt Lavinia’s wild about it.” “But where does he get his money?” “Nobody knows, and he refuses to tell. Papa says that he must have found another Rapson.” “But he isn’t selling shares again, is he?”