“He’s quite the inventor. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. Spurlock went, it would not be far enough. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for.
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