” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. I don’t want you to talk to me now. 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 son?’ asked Roding. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. Another horn now resounded from the further extremity of the thoroughfare; this was answered by a third; and presently a fourth, and more remote blast, took up the note of alarm. An hour was then passed in conversation as to the possibility of rendering any assistance to Jack; in deploring his unhappy destiny; and in the consideration of the course to be pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild. She further suspected that he might find a servant to dally with in the meantime, if he had not already. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas.
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