‘Ah, bah, it is enough,’ she cried, and turning, ran out of the room. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. ’ ‘Certainly that is true. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. “But I am at singing-pitch. ” Annabel pulled up her veil. 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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