Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. And then this girl had to sweep into and out of his life! He recalled McClintock's comment about Spurlock being the kind that fell soft. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do.
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