It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. ” “Why did you tell me? I thought—I thought we were going to be friends. "And, may I be cursed if I ever did anything in my whole life which gave me so much satisfaction. "Your name is Spurlock?" "It is. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. How is she?” “My sister is quite well, thank you,” she answered.
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