Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. At this piece of information, the two subordinate officers were observed to exchange glances; and, after a little agreeable raillery on their captain's gallantry, they begged permission to accompany him in his visit. “You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. One went in for painting, kept straight and married old Ferringhall a week or so ago—the Lord help her.
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