If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. Wood in very characteristic attitudes, occupied a prominent place on the walls. You shall behold him. I am no one, Gérard. She shook them off of one foot. I’ll need you to go back to the barracks and fetch more men up to town. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory.
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