His vicious abusiveness vanished. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. She mentally reprimanded herself to alter her own visage so as not to appear depraved. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly.
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