She lived, he noted, very carelessly. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. What happened between Ruth and her father that made him hurry off without passing ordinary courtesies with me?" "I suppose I ought to tell you," said Spurlock; "but it is understood that Ruth shall never know the truth. I love my husband. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin.
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