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“Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. . The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. It is customary even where an agreement is drawn. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. ’ She drew a heavy breath. The significance of the kiss was still obscure to her, though she had frequently encountered the word and act in the Old and New Testaments and latterly in novels.
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