For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. My opportunities have been immense, and my failure utter. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. She kept her face downcast. "Ali Baba, in a blue-serge coat!… God-forsaken fool!" CHAPTER XIII One day Ruth caught the patient's eyes following her about; but there was no question in the gaze, no interest; so she pretended not to notice. But it is that I have a very bad temper, you understand. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Aren't we funny? And just as I was beginning to lose faith in human beings, to have someone like this come along! It is almost as if she were acting a rôle, and she isn't. The reward is mine. “Oh goody. How provoking!" she added, pretending to rummage her pockets; "one never can find a thing when one wants it.
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