She opened and read it at once. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. “I too am asked. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. 8 or 1. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room.
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