“I cannot say more. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. There's more than I undertook
to bring. 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 fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. ”
She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. The
oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey.
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