"Any price was better than your head. There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. She met him by the dugout after the game.
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