So I made haste and recovered. I was grounded for the last two weeks. "I'm not particular about rooms. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's.
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