‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only masquerading as Spurlock. “These are for you. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. The effects of the heroin wore off slowly. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows.
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