” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. 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. But it’s very beastly. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. You keep on coming truer, after you have seemed to come altogether true. I didn't expect you home before that hour, Sir. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows.
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