It struck his forehead, splitting it, and brought him to his knees. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. . "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. They order me to get my man, and I get him. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. I'm hungry. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares.
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