Disaster had been precisely what she had sensed if not thought, since a union of two persons whose natures were as utterly different, as essentially opposed, as Lee's and Ruth's would inevitably lead to disillusionment, antagonism, sorrow, havoc.

That his eyes at last were open was a blessing.
"What are you thinking of ?" he asked, all at once.
She found his eyes full upon her.
"Of what you had said," she responded.

"And at this minute I'm speculating on whether anything--one's decisions, or acts, or sentiments--are ever quite conclusive or final.

Or fatal, too, as you said.

We might possibly except murder and suicide." She smiled as she mentioned this reservation.
Lee shifted his position with a trace of impatience.
"I'm not a pessimist," he exclaimed.
"No, you're too active to be.