But as the next moment all was profound darkness, Jack easily managed to break away from them. Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. The walls of the room were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless bottles and many appliances of surgical science. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor.
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