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. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted. It shall be done as you direct. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move.
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