’ Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet. “Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. 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. He knew she had been weeping. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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