CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. What do you know about her, Fred? I am interested. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. He's young and sound. Which, if we are not all of us very careful indeed, will be stolen from Miss Charvill. She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. He shall have the estates. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position.
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