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” Anna nodded. Occasionally he relit his pipe. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. You were delicious in concert, by the way. And for me there is only one treasure-house. “It is unimportant,” she said. 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. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. ‘You’re right. "I was only just in time. I've got an address here. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. “No, it was simple.
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