He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. . There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls.
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