"Well!" cried Mrs. “How shall I get my luggage out of the house?. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. "You forgot your lunch," she said. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk.
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