He stood up abruptly and went to the window. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. Here was the same Ruth who had left him a few minutes since: the same outwardly; and yet…! On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, paintings. She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips.
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