Her thoughts took words for themselves. The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side. Her eyes followed him. "I love you like a son, and will follow you like a dog. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind.
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