He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. “It’s all right,” he said, reassuringly to the inquirer without. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. “Soon she will return. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. You did not see me, I know. . She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed.
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