If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. " Spurlock turned his dull eyes and tried to focus hers. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. " "But you can imagine it. "I've lost my wager.
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