He groped her buttocks. When she told him that the natives called her The Dawn Pearl, his delight was unbounded. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. Play fair with her. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. John Sheppard. . Old Newgate.
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