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. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. I've another reason for supposing he'll pay me a visit. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. . What I said about your brat was all stuff. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. And then her pace slackened. And after that Alice became remoter than ever, and, after a time, ill.
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