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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. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. I was one of the few. The Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind. I bring you tidings of an old friend. ’ ‘That we shall see. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished.
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