The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth. . C. . The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods.
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