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He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Smith had never seen anything like it. "Then, of course, you must know. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. It could not be she who had done this. “It couldn’t be. He was bewildered. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier. But remember my warning, and play the game!" Spurlock closed his eyes again. . “I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus.
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