When he faced Spurlock, the granite was cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human eyes. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. CHAPTER XI. ‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said.
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