Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. But to draw the attention of the milice, no, that is not at all desirable. He, a Chinaman, troubling himself over Occidental ideas! With his hands in his sleeves, he proceeded on his way.
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