I tell you what, Mr. " Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. " Mrs. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. Wouldn't take my advice.
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