CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. What might it have been?’ Mrs Sindlesham shook her head helplessly. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. Her tone was hoarse with passion. She was always initiating petty breaches of discipline. It got on my nerves—the women I saw.
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