" "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. “I think that you were inquiring for Mr. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. Did he talk a little when you took him into the city?" "No. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. "Why do you ask?" rejoined the other haughtily. "But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again.
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