The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. They thought that she was her own mother. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. Instead of which they walked sharply. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb.
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