’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. "He's safe enough, I assure you. I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. 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.
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