***** Spurlock possessed that extraordinary condition of the mind which is called New England conscience. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. He could lose himself for hours at a time. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. " Mr. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. “Just do it. Good-bye, aunt.
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