” “But I didn’t lose it that way, did I?” She grew hysterical. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. Then he got up and left her. 7. IX. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. . As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise.
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