She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. '" "What is that?" she asked. Anyhow, ten minutes after I get to work I'll be rumpling it. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast.
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