Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Thanks. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. Married the other and ran off after Mary died. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside.
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