It was impossible. "You are my prisoner. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. His food lay untouched about his plate. The Disguise 261 VI. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover.
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