He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. Lad, that fuddles me!" "Did you bring me down here to crucify me?" cried Spurlock, in passionate rebellion. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind.
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