He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. So she built a shrine. “Men are curious animals, with a trick of falling in love readily with girls about your age. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. You’ve placed me in a very exceptional position, Miss Stanley. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. ” “Well”—her breath failed her for a moment. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. ‘That’s just it.
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