Spurlock stepped into the room. I knew it. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. The militia offered little in the way of relief. A species of vertigo seized him. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. " "That's me," interposed Jonathan; "a thief-taker is always a murderer in the eyes of a thief. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically.
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