” For some seconds he had remained quite still. Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. To receive him here afterwards would be most repugnant to me. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. ‘Parbleu, but it is not comfortable in the least in there.
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