One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. The baby did not strike at Sebastian. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace.
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