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. Or, if you were about to embark upon a nautical career, here was all the information required. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape. I want you to be my lover. Diving towards it, he tried to press against the rivulet that was seeping from it, hampered mightily by Melusine’s fingers, which were grasping at his other hand.
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