” “Why do you think so?” she asked. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. She is more dear to me than anything else. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony.
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