’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. Presently he reached out and laid his hand upon Spurlock's motionless shoulders. You know you do, Annabel. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you.
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