“Whenever they try to take hold of life a man intervenes. “No, I’m not a virgin. CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily.
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