“Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. 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. That you are not Valade at all, and that I am Melusine Charvill, the granddaughter of monsieur le baron, the general. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. “I will be off,” she declared. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself.
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