Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. To appreciate it you should try rooms. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed.
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