So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to. Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. And it's uncanny. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance.
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