Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. ” “It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned away. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own.
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