She rapped again, louder. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. . ’ ‘Good. " The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly pressure. Dizziness overcame him like anesthetic and he slept. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application.
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