wardly; 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. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living.

Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts.
What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his
opinions. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. But
whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock
broke into saving laughter.

McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. "I wouldn't give a
betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed
himself in the right. We'll have some fun down there at my place,
Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death."

"Oh, no!" Ruth protested. "I have so much to learn."

"Aye," said McClintock, in a tone so peculiar that it sent
Spurlock's glance to his plate.

"All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said,
divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. "These
islands that come out of nowhere, like transparent amethyst, that
deepen to sapphire, and then become thickly green! And always the
white coral sand rimming them--emeralds set in pearls!"

"'A thing of beauty is a joy forever!'" quoted McClintock. "But I
like Bobby Burns best. He's neighbourly; he has a jingle for every
ache and joy I've had."

So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with
the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the
pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened,
exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to
enter the talk.

"There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful,"
she said.

"That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. "The end is the most beautiful
in English literature. 'It is a far, far better thing that I do,
than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to,
than I have ever known.' That has always haunted me."

"I liked that, too," she replied; "but it wasn't that I had in
mind. Here it is." She opened the book which she had brought to the
table. "'A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human
creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to
every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at
night, that e