” “You were in a difficult position,” Mr. Ruth loved him. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. And they come here, and they look at our furniture to see if it is good; and they are not glad, it does not stir them, that at last, at last we can dare to have children. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. It’s my choice, Lucy. He was still thickly clad in jeans.
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