I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. Listen, it is I. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. If only to say goodbye. . \" She sat down on a nearby bench. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. 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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