Saviour's Stairs. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. 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. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. “Exactly. My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh.
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