Spurlock was by nature orderly, despite his literary activities. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. He did not like it. "I will at once convince you of the truth of my assertions, and ascertain whether the enemy really is at hand. Now you can understand why I have been obliged to——” “Yes, yes, I understand that,” Courtlaw interrupted.
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