Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. That is very bad, certainly, and for this he was extremely sorry. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I guessed as soon as you said this was your house.
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