” She was silent. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. There was nothing to be got out of the man. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve.
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