His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. “Does he know that I am involved with someone?” “Of course he knows. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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