They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. Hitherto in the world’s history there had been precursors of this Progress at great intervals, voices that had spoken and ceased, but now it was all coming on together in a rush. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. "He is," returned Quilt, significantly.
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