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Maggot tenderly. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. How did you get into this house?’ He shrugged. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. He did not love Ruth. “Where have you been! If Sheila finds out, she’ll kill you!” She summoned a few tears to elicit sympathy from him. 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. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin.
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