. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. It’s no good. I wanted the time with you. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. Then he threw the letter at me.
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