CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. Oh, it was very bad. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. Gosse, if he had any sense, would immediately seek out the Remenham lawyers. There’s something— something ADULT about you. Then he rallied, smiling a little. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently. He had chosen his time well. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. She makes me feel terribly old-fashioned. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. Vorsack. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head.
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