You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. I said to myself at once, ‘Either this is a coincidence or the caper sauce. 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. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. "I hear you plotting with your wicked associates," cried Mrs.
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