All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. Spurlock's vision was oddly of the past. They were the same.
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