He started to take off his shoes, but fell to staring at the white plaster wall opposite him, broken by long streaks of dirty brown where rain had leaked through the roof.

On this befouled background visions began to flow and burn.

He forgot his shoes and stared long, till his lips began to move and he murmured, "Ruth." "Ruth." He had not thought a simple sound could be so beautiful.

It delighted his ear, and he grew intoxicated with the repetition of it.
"Ruth." It was a talisman, a magic word to conjure with.

Each time he murmured it, her face shimmered before him, suffusing the foul wall with a golden radiance.