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Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. I’m glad the old sore is assuaged. Presently McClintock came in. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 08-07-2024 00:32:40
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