"I understand," she said. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. Only a son’s another story. Third period was Art, where they sat side by side at a table and carved linoleum for block prints together. Jack's heart was too full to allow him to derive any pleasure from this scene; so he strolled on without raising his eyes till he arrived at Kensal Green. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. They will be safe.
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