‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. Always. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. I expect Mr. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. " Spurlock turned his dull eyes and tried to focus hers.
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