But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. You're an angel of goodness. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. She pulled, he rose to his feet. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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