CHAPTER XIX. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night. ‘Oh, peste. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. From thoughts of fame to thoughts of mere bread and butter! It seemed to Spurlock that he had tumbled off the edge of Somewhere into the abyss of Nowhere.
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