Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. ” His lips tightened, and he frowned with solemn resolution. She did not resist him, she could not. ” She said mournfully. 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. His sister appeared.
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