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CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. ‘You don’t know the whole, child. “I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered. . ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. ” “You were in a difficult position,” Mr. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. Sheppard, horror-stricken.
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