The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. Ann Veronica realized that she was alone with the world. "Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. You are very lovely, Ruth. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year.
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