Then, naturally, I went on talking. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. " "How?" exclaimed the other. She had heard the trader utter it many times. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. She hastened past. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth.
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