“Don’t worry, Julian. In one of the little red circles the doctor had traced that abbreviation. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. Wood in their favour. " "You look pretty fit. Let me go my own way towards them. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal.
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