” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. O'Higgins returned to town and made a night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. 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. ” “You did not——” “Wait, Annabel! When I arrived in London I went to live in the cheapest place I could find. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. All the precious paintings and statues of the divine family were here, as was the enormous wooden crucifix set above the altar. I did not know what God had in mind then.
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