" When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. I have been stupid and foolish. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. I'm safe enough if you hold your tongue. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow.
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