He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. Norris was so frightened that she ordered the postboys to drive back as fast as they could. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him.
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