Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. It was now a quarter past twelve. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. It troubled her conscience a little, but Melusine had learned well of Leonardo and she trusted his word Besides, no one could expect that a jeune demoiselle, in a foreign land, might carry out quite alone the difficult task with which she was faced. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Never really thought about Him—people don’t. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. A live man.
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