But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. " "But what, in God's name, possessed you? You have already wrecked your own life and now you've wrecked hers. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. But it was not so ordered. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence.
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