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. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. ’ ‘Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,’ Gerald said. ” But she could not talk freely about love, she found, for all that manumission. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather.
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