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I'll eat them when we start. Just now the water-chestnuts...." She smiled, and returned to the spinsters. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember.
After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. To use it as a passport to card-tables and gin-bottles!
His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. "So, wanton, I have found you!" "Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the arm.
" with a tragic gesture toward the east. "I couldn't go on!" "You'll need something more than courage now. But no more of that. What is done cannot be undone. I want to talk to Mr. Spurlock. Will you leave us for a few minutes?" "You are not going to be harsh?" "I wish to talk about the future." "Very well." She departed reluctantly.
Brayton and Spurlock were talking in low tones when the turnback approached them. "Brayton," began Haynes, "I want to ask you to do me a bit of a favor." Brayton did not stop his conversation with Spurlock, nor did he show any other sign of having heard the turnback. "Brayton! I beg your pardon!" But the first classman did not turn.
On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, paintings. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts.
I can't pump out all there is to these compositions. Try something." Spurlock gratefully accepted the Grieg concerto, gratefully, because it was brilliant and thunderous. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. He played for an hour Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music.
It's all just a substitute for love, dear. Mother Spurlock fell back on it when she lost her husband. The little Burns woman wouldn't have it any more than Nell has if Mike Burns was like Mark Morgan. And Goodloe would lose it in a week if if he could get you in his arms." As Nickols spoke, his arms about me trembled and strained me to him. "No!" I exclaimed as if I had heard blasphemy uttered.
It took a deal of thought to cast a comprehensive cable, for it had to include where Spurlock was, what he was doing, and the fact that O'Higgins's letter of credit would not now carry him and Spurlock to San Francisco. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. "Good work. Come home alone."
"I can pitch 'em," also declared Mikey, with evident desire to back up his patroness. "But not as good as her," and his admiration amounted to adoration, as he raised his young eyes to Charlotte. "You see, Oh, you see, even to the second generation they follow," laughed Mother Spurlock, as she escaped through the door and left me with my practical demonstration of class leadership.
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