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His hesitation was visible, and Spurlock took advantage of this to run to Ruth. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. The thought had not even occurred to him. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. “Go on,” he said. Clientèle was of the most transitory character.
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