It filled his thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. It fell with a clatter to the floor. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. I was curious about that. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. ” Anna’s eyes opened a little wider, but she said nothing.
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