A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror. Love and companionship. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Only you seem to me since the time when I knew you in Paris to have changed—to have changed in some subtle manner which I find at times utterly bewildering. Let us be friends—as near and close as friends can be. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly.
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