" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ” She answered solemnly. She refused to sleep in the same room with him one night, kicking him in the shins. 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. Even now she was dazed. It might prove rewarding. She pushed him gently on the chest. "I began to fear, from his having quitted the old place, that some misfortune must have befallen him.
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