During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. It was Missy and Michelle in her grandmother's old Buick. Spurlock felt very well pleased with himself. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. It's big, thanks to you. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. . Leastways, not on your own. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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