Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Then they deliberated whether Bernard Shaw ought to go into Parliament. She dare not risk it. When she saw Ann Veronica she stood for a moment as if entranced, and then advanced with outstretched hands. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here.
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