Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and indulgently. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully.
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