CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. Just my room. And then she could see nothing at all for his lips founds hers. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible. But she was relentless. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. To receive him here afterwards would be most repugnant to me.
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