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She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. She will not confide in me. The rest was easy. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. . There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. Mrs. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines.
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