She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. Happy Thanksgiving. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. ’ A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. But go on. He kissed her once inside the car. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. She's fine. My birth certificate was destroyed when the county building it was housed in burned down.
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