His heir is dead, yes, and his name and title available to me. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out. It just made me mad to the boiling point. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. "I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. Sir John felt hot and furious. 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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