"Pardon me," Ruth corrected. "I learned it just under a year ago. You got horribly drunk and told me all about it"
"Yes. That's true. I remember. Even so!—"
"Oh, I wish I could make you understand!" The cigarette glowed and darkened nervously. Ruth half turned; In near-darknss he could see the sincerity, the deep earnestness, in the gleam of her eyes. "I had to know whether it was right for both of you, and that wasn't easy. I had to decide what was best"
"You had to decide what was best for us?"
"Yes."
"Forgive me, Ruth. But can you, or I, or anybody else in this bloody Socialist world, say what's best for his neighbour?"
"I knew you wouldn't understand. You see, I'm very fond of Jenny, and I— am rather fond of you. Jenny's had a queer upbringing. Her father and mother, the Earl and Countess, never got on well. Her mother's dead. Her father lives abroad: in Sweden, I think."
"Yes. So Jenny told me."
"She's been brought up by this stately grandmother…" "And you think the old she-dog can stop Jenny from loving me?"
"Oh, she'll love you." Ruth laughed. "She'll love you so desperately that in a year or two you'll be bored to death. Also, Jenny's terribly jealous. And she has almost no sense of humour."