Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over.
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