For a long time neither spoke again. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. " "I see through your design, Jack," returned the carpenter, gravely; "but I don't like under-hand work. “Never mind. 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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