Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. No— no, it must never be. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things.
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