“I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. His literary instincts began to stir. It is at the lodge that we stay. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark.
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