Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. "The youth whom you delivered to Van Galgebrok,—Thames Darrell, is returned. ’ If she suffered from dragging pain in her joints, Gerald thought it explained why her features were prematurely lined. In vain Wood protested his innocence. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Rowland's purposes were, however, defeated in a manner as unexpected as appalling. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet.
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