“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. I can't concentrate on my work. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. Alors, one must steel oneself.
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