He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. There is the key. We have to hang about in the interval. The moment he was out in the hall, Ruth sat up hugging and rocking her body in delight. Sir Montacute had three children—two daughters and yourself.
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