. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. ‘The fact of it is,’ I said, ‘I’m the new playwright, Thomas More. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. For a time she furnished the flat. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. That is good.
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