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. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct. "Close the court, Mr. “I will make of the days and weeks one long morning, but remember the afternoon must come. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. 1.
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