But Ruth had thrown out a hand for him to stop, had covered her face as if shutting something out. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ruth!" murmured Ted. "I'm a fool!" he cried angrily. But after a minute he added haltingly, "And yet--you did want to know, and--maybe it's fairer to mother, Ruth. Maybe--" but he could not go on and went over and stood by the window, not wanting to leave her like that, not knowing what to do.
"Well, one thing I want you to know, Ruth," he said, as he did finally turn to the door. "I've been talking along about how hard it was for the rest of us, but don't for a minute think I don't see how terrible it was for _you_. I get that, all right."
She looked up at him, wanting to speak, but dumb; dumb in this new realization of how terrible it had been for them all.
An hour later she had to get away from that room. She did not know where she was going, but she had to have some escape. Just the physical act of getting away was something.
Ted and Harriett were talking in the lower hall. They looked in inquiry at the hat she held and her face made Ted lay a hand on her arm. She told them she had to have exercise--air--and was going out for a little walk. She thought Harriett looked aghast--doubtless preferring Ruth be seen as little as possible. But she could not help that; she had to get away--away from that room, that house, away from those old things now newly charged. Something left with them shut down around her as a fog in which she could not breathe. Ted asked if he should go with her, but she shook her head and started for the side door, fearing he might insist. He called after her that Harriett was going to have Cyrus stay at her house, that she could make room for him. He said it with a relief which told how he had really hated having his brother go to the hotel. As she turned with something about that being better, she noticed how worn and worried Harriett looked, and then hurried on, wanting to get away, to escape for a little while from that crushing realization of how hard she made things for them all. But she could not shut out the thought of the empty rooms upstairs at their house--Cyrus's old home--and the crowded quarters at Harriett's. Yet of course this would be better than the hotel; she was glad Harriett and Ted had been able to arrange it; she hoped, for their sakes, that Cyrus would not, to emphasize his feeling, insist upon staying downtown.
