But there is something in your voice that makes me distrust you. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. He looked distant, irritated. 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. ” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion.
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