She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. S. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs.
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