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If I were Mr. Then she went below. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. The pain in Cathy and Shari Beck’s faces upset him the most, but the posters with a close up of her face they had put all over town made his heart ache more. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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