Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. He cocked an eyebrow. Earles regarded it approvingly. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. There was another little thing he had to say. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing.
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