Wood could stand it no longer. CHAPTER VII. . Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. We've ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired, or you wouldn't have mastered me so easily. ***** From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness held a stout leash on his secret. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch.
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