She flew up from her stool and faced the door. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. ’ The pathetic sob which accompanied the last word had a signal effect on two of the company at least.
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