Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. ” He stood looking at the preparations before them with an unusual preoccupation of manner, then roused himself to take her jacket, a little awkwardly, and hand it to the waiter who hung it in the corner of the room. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. But oh, how weary I am! I know. ‘You have rifled his papers.
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