It was after all a momentary affair. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. "But I'm a blackguard, too, Ruth. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form.
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