Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. Then he was to arrest you and bring you home to me. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. 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. "Get up, mother," cried Jack; "do not kneel to him.
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