CHAPTER XXXII. 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. " But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling. ‘The whole town is talking. "Dying, Sir Rowland. Let me lend you some money. She’s as stubborn as the proverbial mule, and—’ with a sigh that felt wrenched out of him ‘—utterly captivating. Open the window, Thames, and call for assistance. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. The minute he discovers Roding here, he’ll know something is up.
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