Now he was able, undisturbed, to draw her picture, he saw she, too, had charm, but she was not at all like Ruth.

The strange thing was, one did not note if she were beautiful or not.

In a way, this did not matter; her pluck and firmness fixed one's interest.
Lister threw away his cigarette.

He was poor and not romantic.

The girl he had helped had vanished, and after their excursion he hardly expected to see Ruth again.