” “Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me have your key, and I will go up and explore. ” “They were my posters,” Annabel said. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face. And there was that dress of hers! She must be warned that she had been imposed upon. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other.
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