“I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. She backed away, amazed as the thing buzzed loudly in the center of the room. Just as the clergyman approached the altar, she perceived a boy steal quickly into the church, and ensconce himself behind the woollen-draper, who, in order to carry on his amatory pursuits with greater convenience, and at the same time display his figure (of which he was not a little vain) to the utmost advantage, preferred a standing to a sitting posture. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him. He was a fool. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. .
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