"Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. One or the other. There was nothing to be learned from her face. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. They were so good to me. He glanced up at the coachman. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. And they never talked of anything at all, never discussed, never even encouraged gossip.
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