Nor did he content himself with declaring his guiltlessness of the crime imputed to him, but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser, loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. “There’s no end of things I’d like to talk over with you. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe.
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