One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. " "I will go," said Mrs. " "You don't have to. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Mother and Son XI. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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