Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. "Out of the beaten track, with a real man for an employer? How would that strike you?" Interest shot into Spurlock's eyes; it spread to his wan face. He parried without apparent effort. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. We’re different. " "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly.
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