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" "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. "Mr. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. “You don’t want to go?” “No. I may want you. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. Perhaps an hour later he would begin again. His eyes never left her face. Spurlock grew cold. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter.
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