That is what I don't understand. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. F.
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