You know not what a
wretched guilty thing I am. Tell Bess to
slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. Lost from all protection, all her
family dead—as are mine. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to
him. 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. And even if that,’ she added
bitterly, ‘he must be also a person of a disposition extremely mad, that he can go
against the family.
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