"You must have called her something besides Ruth." He whispered: "I-I-I called her p-puzzums."
I said: "Oh Jesus!" and wanted to laugh in spite of the spot I was on, but I said instead: "Now when we get inside you get you face close to her ear and be ready to whisper in it. Then just put your hand over her mouth and whisper. For Christ's sake, don't let her make that first squawk. She'll come out of her sleep scared to death and she'll sing out sure as hell. So clamp down on her mouth until she knows who it is that's talking to her. Understand."
He said he did.
I went down the hall and got to her door and tried it. It was unlocked, and if I'd been a gal in that den of wolves that door would have been bolted and propped closed with a chair as well. But I thanked God for her trust in men
