Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. The period of repression was over. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. If you had taken your degree, for example. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. "But never mind who, or what I am.
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