Spurling, who sat on the right of the table. ” “You gave it him well. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own.
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