" "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. Part 7 Then one day a little thing happened that clothed itself in significance. ‘I have only borrowed it. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it.
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