“I’m not gentle. I’m glad you could come. " "Now for it," thought the woollen-draper, "I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies. I am so much obliged to you for your projected benevolence. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. This girl was strong and vital: how would she take it when she learned that she had cast her lot with a fugitive from justice? For McClintock was certain that Spurlock was a hunted man. I was the last on board. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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