CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. On the other a wretched engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the house was not altogether free from some tincture of Jacobitism. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. ’ ‘He did, you know,’ grinned Gerald. Imbecile. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. I packed them with the other few things I owned. " The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired. He could lose himself for hours at a time. Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies.
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