When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid
bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. When will he be up?"
"That depends. 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. "Who is it, Bess?"
"How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. "Save him," replied Jonathan.
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