She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. "He's audacity enough for anything. . “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. "Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, don't you?" Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face.
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