“I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful. “Come this way,” he said. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. 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. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night.
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