When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. She was no longer there. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided. He was not a sailor.
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