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Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock. Produce them!" "Never!" replied Kneebone. It does not matter to him either way. ” He adjusted his glasses on his nose. But she did not in the least want to do that. " Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her.
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