CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. My feelings overpower me. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. . Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. ‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss.
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