She drew her naked arms around herself. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. "What's become of Ruth?" "Gone to her room. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind.
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