Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. He kissed her ardently. His mind seemed to be a remarkably full one; his knowledge of detailed reality came in just where her own mind was most weakly equipped. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. That’s— that’s my private life. “I have found out at last what a useless person I am —from a utilitarian point of view. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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