I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. I am dreadfully sad. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape.
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