Words of encouragement and sympathy were addressed to Jack, who, as he looked around, beheld many a friendly glance fixed upon him. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. “No, she just worries that I’ll go Satanic and start chomping the heads off of bats and mice or something. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. " At luncheon, preoccupied in thought, Spurlock did not notice the pallor on Ruth's cheeks or the hunted look in her eyes. "And so shall I," replied Edgeworth Bess.
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