She did not try to approach him. ’ He bowed slightly, and indicated the house behind them with a wave of his hand. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my wife.
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