" "I'll tell you what. ” “I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me. "Defend yourself!" cried Jack, drawing his sword. 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. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. ‘En tout cas, I have waiting for me a cavalier.
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