It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. . ‘Oh, ah. "Ruth?" he called. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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