CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. "If you talk as long as an Old Bailey counsel, you'll not alter my determination. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. She forced herself not to think of John. The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood. She threw the bags of marijuana and a tiny bag of white powder he had in the sewer, unfortunately they were his only worldly possessions. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her.
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