The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. See how he gets on, father," he added, appealing to Wood: "the box seems to grow under his hands. As to following, there was no one. Lucy waited for the next Phys. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face.
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