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. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. You, Anna, are one of them. I’ve had it, Sheila. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs.
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