Another long interval elapsed. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. "That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. “How’s Mrs. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I hate this part of the world.
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