I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. ” “Many other people,” she remarked, “have made the same mistake. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that.
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