The door popped open with a sigh. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. How you dress when you're loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, when you dine with me, collar and tie. “As I love you. “I did it for love of you,” he said. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder.
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