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Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. That register would be easy to get at; comforting thought. " "Not while Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland live. Have you seen much of her lately?” “Nothing at all,” he answered. He smothered a laugh. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. ‘Like a vision she were. “Shit happens, John. ’ ‘Oh, she is English?’ repeated Alderley, interest perking up. He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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