The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. He drew her closer. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for her and fight for her. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears.
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