I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. ’ If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “I remember when you walked me home. Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroachments of the current for centuries. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it.
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