“And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. Gianfrancesco’s had curved differently and was darker. “What’s going on with you?” John asked inquisitively, looking down at her abdomen. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for her and fight for her. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. One cannot trust any man at all.
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