Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. It was as if he could smell it on her. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. “I must read him when I come out. . Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door.
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