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Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. . " Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean.
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