“In five minutes I shall be ready. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. The life of a young girl is set about with prowling pitfalls. Their conversation became stilted. And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. I want you.
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