Ruth [a bit frightened]. No, really I didn't. Caroline did. I lent her my notebook once overnight, and she gave Jane a peek—in the strictest confidence. Jane really needed it. She was getting so cocky about Bob. Girls are funny things, aren't they?
Anne [who has been keenly interested in all of Ruth's gossip]. What do you mean?
Ruth. It isn't so much the man, as the idea of a man—some one to dream about, and to talk about. When I think of getting engaged—I suppose I shall get engaged some day—I never think of being really, really kissed by a man—
Anne. What do you think of?
Ruth. I always think of telling Caroline about it, showing my ring to her and to Madge. Oh, Madge is green with envy. I believe she thought Harold sort of liked her. [Anne turns away.] She was so excited when she saw him in New York. She said she would have got off the bus and chased him, but he went into a house.... Anne, why didn't you tell us—me, at least—that Harold was back from South America, before we heard it from Madge?
Anne. Just because.... I wanted to avoid all this.... It was hard enough to have him within a few hours' distance and know he could not get to me. But it was easier when no one else knew. Don't you understand?
Ruth. Yes, dear, of course I do—but still—
Anne [impatiently]. Now, Ruth, it's quarter past four. You promised—
Ruth. I'm going ... right straight off ... unless—Oh, Anne, mayn't I stay and have just one peek. I won't let him see me, and then I'll run straight away?
Anne. Oh, for heaven's sake, don't be naughty and silly! Clear out now, quickly, or—[Changing her tone suddenly.] Ruth, dear, put yourself in my place. Think how you would feel if you were going to see the man you loved for the first time. That's what it really is. Think of it! Two years ago when he went away we were just the merest friends—and now—