" "I am a thief, nevertheless. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. He did not spend more time with her. To Ruth came that of the great world, her lawful lover at her side; and there would be glorious books into each of which he would unconsciously put a little of her soul along with his own, needing her always. “I wonder if there are any good women really. It may bring us together again. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. That's a queer yarn. Papa doesn't even care, but he just goes along with whatever my Mom says. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it.
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