Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me.
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