But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. At last his voice came to release her tension. For the present the desire to fly was gone. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance.
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