Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. These were the Master of the Mint, Van Galgebrok, and Mrs. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. Just let him down easy, Lucy. ’ They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds.
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