It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. 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. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. Sheppard, fervently. Funny how all but the most cunning and promiscuous teenage girls never caught on, not in 1400, certainly not now. It generalized everything she put to it. It wasn’t. Half a minute, Vee. ’ He became aware of his friend’s face before him.
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