They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. What he did not know was this: Ruth surrendered these little secrets because the doctor had warned her that the patient must be amused and interested. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air.
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