She made up her mind presently,—partly at least,—and spoke again. "I don't believe," she said, "that it would be the next thing for Arctura Fish."
Dakie Thayne's eyebrows went up, just that half perceptible line or two. "Do you think people ought always to have the next thing?" he asked.
"It seems to me it must be somebody's fault if they don't," replied Ruth.
"It is a long waiting sometimes to get the next thing," said Dakie Thayne. "Army men find that out. They grow gray getting it."
"That's where only one can have it at a time," said Ruth. "These things are different."
"'Next things' interfere occasionally," said Barbara. "Next things up, and next things down."
"I don't know," said Rose, serenely unconscious and impersonal. "I suppose people wouldn't naturally—it can't be meant they should—walk right away from their own opportunities."
Ruth laughed,—not aloud, only a little single breath, over her work.
Dakie Thayne leaned back.
"What,—if you please,—Miss Ruth?"