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. Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. There is no future for me here. “I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. I should like Mr.
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