And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs. “Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’ve always thought he was an idiot. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth.
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