Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. "Bring him along, Joe!" said Jackson, in a whisper to his comrade. "The guv'ner'll be here afore midnight. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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