"Beg pardon, Sir Rowland," said the attendant, "but there's a boy from Mr. “John, don’t!” she cried. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. What'll you be doing?" "What can I do?" asked Spurlock, raising his haggard face. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted.
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