“I believe so. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. For a time she promenaded the room. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks.
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