Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. ’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. ‘Got you!’ ‘You!’ Stunned, Melusine moved quickly away from the tell-tale bookshelf. Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only masquerading as Spurlock. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. Let—it—fall. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. They cannot imagine the discomforts involved, and they see only mystery in your fight to recover your lost heritage. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her.
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