" So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. ’ ‘Melusine!’ came sharply from the doorway. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. “Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged.
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