Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. 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. Mrs. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. Rhea became alarmed that she was about to leave. "You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate. Jeez! It was about time. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on. A vast relief filled Spurlock's heart as he decided to tell this man everything which related to Ruth. Best assured of that.
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