" "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. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. Even then it sent Spurlock spinning backward, to crash against the wall. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige.
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