“But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her future.
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