Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. CHAPTER I. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago. His father spoke for him. Besides ——” She stopped short.
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