He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. You won’t settle and I’m going mad. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. "Go on first with the light," he said. "That's a glorious reward. It is not you who runs the risk of going dinnerless to-morrow.
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