“Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. ” He leaned back for his soup. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. I'll try a strong dose. “I am the most foolish of men. And she was about as capable of intelligent argument as a runaway steam-roller.
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