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Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. "Oh!—to see you thus!" cried Thames, in an agony of affliction. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. This is also the ragged edge of the world, too. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home.
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