Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. The noise startled the apprentice, who instantly suspended his labour, and gazed anxiously in the direction whence he supposed it proceeded. On the way he confessed. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me. . ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress.
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