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‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. She
felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat,
but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. His job as a
painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. 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. Chapter XVII
THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE”
“By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?”
“Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I
have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. His sword then came in for his scrutiny: he felt at, and appeared satisfied with its
edge. But the morning brought courage again, and those first
intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. . ‘And I am
thinking now that you may be very suitable.
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This video was uploaded to desenez.net on 03-07-2024 18:47:19