The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. Cathy gave her a bear hug and patted her severe 252 hairdo. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. I hope we may never find her again. The Closing Scene. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet.
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