“Is there any urgency?” The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. C. ” “No, don’t say that. Ah Cum is a Yale man and so is this Taber. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. ” She shook her head, snapping out of her reverie.
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