Mrs. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. “No, don’t interrupt me. She calls him a pig, and she says he ain’t Valade. To-morrow we'll raise our first island. 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. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it.
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