"
"Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. And so gentle as the poor
creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see
her. Perhaps that is why I
lost my ambition. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at
this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke
of rank. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. 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. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the
doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as
normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a
kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. "
"No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 05-07-2024 20:02:27