Kneebone nodded. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly. They could no longer stay in one place. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. They did not want her. 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.
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