She replied softly. 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. The boy was right. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores.
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