She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation.
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