When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Sheppard. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. " "As in a dream. ” Miss Miniver followed with an expression of perplexity, her mouth shaped to futile expositions. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited. .
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