“Close your eyes. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. “Oh! please don’t lose yourself in a wilderness of secondary considerations,” she said. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek.
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