’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. 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. Uttering a terrible imprecation, Jonathan snatched up the link, and hastily descended the stairs, leaving the Jew behind him. Been making herself at home all right. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. " "What can be done for him?" cried Thames.
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