Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. The father was a madman. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. I'll teach you submission in time. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point.
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