” “Is this a fair sample of the dinner?” Anna asked, who had the healthy appetite of a strong young woman. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. 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. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. She fled.
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