As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. He parried without apparent effort. 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. The two girls put on shoes and started walking towards the north side of town. “Dear husband,” she murmured. She pitted aspirants against each other in any way imaginable, with tests of science, math, and sometimes will alone. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. ’ ‘Lady Bicknacre too,’ said Lucilla, a delight in her voice that grated on Melusine. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul.
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