Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. “Lighten up. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. ” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. " "What a life!" "No worse than yours. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table.
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