He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path.
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