He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. She wedged the towel between her legs. . ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. '—'Oh! yes we are,' says he. Even in death, Vorsack was not a man.
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