But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. “Sheila and Mark McCloskey?” Michelle asked. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel.
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