It was locked. " As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. “My God!” he said again. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. ‘That’s my pet name.
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