" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. ‘Why do you stand there? Take him up, and bring him out at once. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. "I never went to school. Small, but eminently serviceable. I have said that I am but a nun now. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle.
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