“I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. 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. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied. Wood, the carpenter, who formerly resided here, is still living?" "If you feel any anxiety on his account, Sir, I'm happy to be able to relieve it," answered Kneebone, readily. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands. Things now began to wear so serious a aspect that a messenger was secretly despatched to the Savoy for troops, and in half an hour a regiment of the guards arrived, who by dint of great exertion succeeded in partially dispersing the tumultuous assemblage. \"Yes, he's hot, drives a great car, parents are loaded, and, of course, as you say, good-looking.
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