I will arise myself. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. Spurlock slept on. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated.
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