Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. “Women would—they DO have far more power than they think, as influences, as inspirations. Loving was better than that. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. There is something sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. . He rested on one elbow.
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