"Rot, weren't they?" "No. . Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. "There is nobody else. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs.
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