She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. “I have heard these things from you before, and you have had my answer. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. \"Why should they care that I want to go to college when they are so busy interviewing architects about adding on to our house, making it bigger?\" Lucy looked at her, concerned. She looked around the apartment for other people.
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