The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. “I may seem unduly— anxious. They must be for your father. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly.
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