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Just as he got on the roof of the prison, St. ” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. \" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. . Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. Perhaps she would have to charge this man and appear in a police-court next day. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor.
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