‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. For a time Spurlock did not move. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered.
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