Melusine circled her adversary only far enough to give herself the aisle between the pews behind. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed. II. 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. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. . “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over.
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