CHAPTER 17TOO SIMPLE?
WHAT struck Tuck immediately about Ruth De Lisle was the vagueness that clothed her every motion with incompleteness. When he rang the bell of her house, he heard the clicking of her heels as she ran to open the door. On seeing him, she fell back. Her eyes, after the first glance, did not quite look at him, but rather at something just beyond his shoulder. Her voice was empty when she said, “Won’t you both come in?”
As she led them into the living-room, he noticed that her shoulders had the tired hump of an old woman’s. She sank into a low chair, facing the painting of a Paris street, and forgot to ask them to sit down. With her hands lying clasped in her lap, she looked at the Utrillo. She raised one long hand and felt the coil of hair which went so well with the a
