Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. Spurling. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent.
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