” “Where is your husband?” Anna asked. ” Ennison laughed softly. ” He slipped off the horse. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment. ’ There was satisfaction in Melusine’s voice. “Where?” “To that ball. " But Spurlock put up his guard. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. . She was trembling a little.
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