CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. Having ascertained by the breathing which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to fasten him in. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. unless a copyright notice is included. ' But, gentlemen, though they talked so largely, and looked so fiercely, they did not do it; they did not hang the bailiffs; and where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" echoed the company with indignant derision. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing.
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