She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. He was damned if he knew what to do. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. 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. " "True, and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives. " Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. They have rescued the child. “That is your sister’s name. " As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror.
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