The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. You have made for yourself a unique place upon the stage. But he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the drain, turned his attention to another quarter. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. 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. It’s like this: You want freedom. ‘Inside, miss!’ ‘But what is it?’ ‘Quick! We need the major.
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