He guided her hand to his crotch, which had already grown in size. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. An old man and a young girl, the one as stubbornly offensive as the other. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. If she was in a position to help him she would help him; only it happened to be the other way round. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. " "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily. "Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as soon as his surprise would allow him utterance. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation.
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