She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. I knew it. “No. 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.
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