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. “But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. I'll take them back with me. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report.
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