I saw them both. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. She tried to keep her side up by declaring that he had put her into an impossible position, and he replied by shouting, “Nonsense! Nonsense! Any father in my place would have done what I did. ” Obediently, Lucy placed the stone upon the mausoleum. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. That's a queer yarn.
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