She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. \" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable.
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