CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. Lad, that fuddles me!" "Did you bring me down here to crucify me?" cried Spurlock, in passionate rebellion. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. I knew him in spite of his dress. Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world.
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