" Silence. ” They were eating quails when they returned to the topic of love. “Mom, this is the girl I asked to Prom, Lucy. But a human being who is young and clean, as you are, is apt to ennoble—or explain away. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. “Yes, I remember,” she said. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. "You mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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