’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. There were all varieties of bird-life known in these latitudes, from the bird of paradise down to the tiny scarlet-beaked love-birds. He was human. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky.
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