Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. This she would not endure. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. By Jasus! he's about to spake to us. "I shall do no such thing. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step.
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