He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her. Here was the same Ruth who had left him a few minutes since: the same outwardly; and yet…! On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, paintings. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Man or woman.
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