Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. I don’t want you to talk to me now. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words.
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