Wood in very characteristic attitudes, occupied a prominent place on the walls. “You said you were in love with me,” said Ann Veronica; “I wanted to explain —” “I said I loved and wanted you. 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 needed to protect the baby. Don't be frightened of her.
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