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The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. “Oh, it is okay. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. " "Man, in God's name, come with me and tell her this!" urged Spurlock. But I'll tell you about him some other time. She held up the lamp. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance.
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