Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. 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. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him.
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