She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect.
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