Nobody can anticipate your next move. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Someone, it appeared, was trying to profit from that fact. " "At any rate, I won, for he went away. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. “Because I hate you!” She spat.
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