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” She commented, only to herself. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. I want to leave Paris to-day. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ‘No mistaking you this time. " "And what might that be?" "Will McClintock take us both?" "You took that chance. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. The man lingered.
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