Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. ‘Pitiful. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. CHAPTER XVII After the Ten Commandments have been spoken, conscience becomes less something inherent than something acquired.
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