“What is the exact force of a motif?” she asked at random. “I’ve been through all that,” she went on, after a pause. “You seem to have cultivated quite a jaunty appearance, and you certainly look years younger. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. We are doing a unit on World War II in American History right now, so maybe I am getting a little wrapped up in the unit or something, I dunno. He was amused. " "It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, ruefully.
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