Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. I loathe this room. ‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. How I envied those kids whose Moms picked them up when they got hurt or sick! I fainted in Gym Class when they made me climb the rope. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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