As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. You couldn’t help it. “I supposed that he took off his hat to you. I intend to remain very serious indeed while I’m doing it. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store for you. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn.
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