Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. She wanted to be on with the show. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it.
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