Await me in the coach. CHAPTER VI Sidney Carton, thought Ruth, in pursuit of a sing-song girl! The idea was so incongruous that a cold little smile parted her lips. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. “Perhaps your engagements are made for you. We’ll be somewhere on the floor above.
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