She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. It is only a matter of time before he presents himself to whoever has the deeds to Remenham House—a lawyer I presume—and claims that property for his wife’s. . " "It's light.
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