Spurlock began to watch for Ruth's coming in the morning; first, with negligent interest, then with positive eagerness. Hill closed his eyes. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. She had just passed into a little antechamber beyond when she suddenly heard a faint knocking. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. That added to his puzzle. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. 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.
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