Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping. The young man looked at her. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. Spurlock halted in his tracks. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. ” He said, his voice tinged with worry. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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