For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. 269 They pulled up to the same spot where Michelle’s and the young man’s bodies were, already attracting dust and creeping bugs in the pit. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. 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? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. But this modern miasma—” Mr.
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