"If any one's to blame, it's me. Got the day off. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. I want to hammer myself against all this that pens women in. 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.
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