First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. Spurlock halted in his tracks. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. She winced as he thrust the fact at her, was about to answer, and checked herself. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. . . I shall know what to say to him when he comes.
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