She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. Spurlock bent his head to the rail. She did her best to do this. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. "Go to your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you!" "Make me!" echoed Mrs. " Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. ” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold.
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