" Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his head. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. It is bad policy. ‘A devil is just what you are. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. He was so horny that he could probably make love to a tree. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. 123 It didn’t take long. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. Stanley considered.
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