“Mr. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. . He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. "I'd lay down my life for yours. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. They were horrible people. She cried out in pain, then in pleasure as he thrust himself into her. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand.
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