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CHAPTER XVIII. ***** From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness held a stout leash on his secret. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. " "You mustn't talk. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms.
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