Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. I'm likely to get up any time in the night to work. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows.
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