Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. “Can’t it be altered? “I suppose an actress is free?. While this was taking place, another and more serious interruption occurred.
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