Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. He fixed it. . He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way. In your heart you know quite well that all that you have said is useless.
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