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His room was last at the end of one winding corner. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. He was her only brother, and she his favourite sister. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone.
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