" Together they were making habitable the second bungalow, which was within calling distance of McClintock's. Spurling, squeezing Jack's arm, and pushing him towards the door, "and, don't come here again. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. She felt flattered. She was on the rim of civilization, entering, as Spurlock was on the rim, preparing to make his exit. “He knows.
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