Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. Stay! I'll go myself. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. ” She shrugged her shoulders. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite.
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