He drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down, terrified by the utter fallowness of his mind. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. We are not animals. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Torment! And so Ruth discovered him. I decline to waste a single second even in considering the ugly ones. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol.
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