As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. “You vixen!” said Mr. Mrs. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Unconscious of the interest he excited, and entirely occupied by his own thoughts—which, if his bosom could have been examined, would have been found composed of mingled hopes and fears—the young man walked on till he came to an old house, with great projecting bay windows on the first floor, and situated as nearly as possible at the back of St. CHAPTER I.
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