Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed. “I would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. Her soul was full of the sense of disaster.
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