Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. “Mike’s an idiot and we both know it, Lucy! I can’t stand him!” “Did you two have a fight? Are you breaking up?” Lucy said worriedly.
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