But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible. 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. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. Spurling, "I hope he may never see Tyburn. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. She looked at him mournfully.
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