CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. We’re partly human beings and partly females in suspense. "I am too much honoured—too happy in the union. I want to ask you a plain question, and you must answer me faithfully. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. You can do it, if you will.
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