" Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘It were that there major, miss. "No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business. ’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse.
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