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. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time. " "I don't know. " "Ah! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs. Wood, delighted at the idea. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees.
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