The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. You have neither reason nor logic. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. ‘He was very kind to me. You’d better not have all the money on you; you had better open a small account in the postoffice and draw it out a fiver at a time.
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