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CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. Its smooth surface soothed her nerves. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. "So I have," replied Hogarth, glancing at Sheppard. ’ But she reckoned without the fellow Trodger. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. It had been a trying day. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. Sheppard, raising herself, and looking at him as if her life depended upon the answer. Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder alluded to in the description of her as a child,—but that was the only drawback to her beauty. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety.
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