Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “It is a delightful day for walking, but a great deal too cold to be standing on the pavement. When she came to school on Friday, she almost tripped twice going up the stairs. That’s got his nerves to rags. By the middle of July he was in full health. “They make me want to shout,” said Mr.
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