"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. ‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. “It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. ’ Melusine jumped. 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 felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. " Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled.
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