I've sent for the priest. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. "What! refuse to see a person who desires to speak with me. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. Waving a white flag, naturally. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. ‘There is no question of a dispute. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. That would come later. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin.
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