That would not help her. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. “But I am your husband,” he said. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. Her disapproval was obvious enough. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
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