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. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Ruth returned to the table. “The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. We are in love. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write.
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