After all, it was really rather funny. Lucy was charmed; how peaceful the baby looked. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. She has even found them accommodation in the house where she is putting up herself. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. 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.
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