Ann Veronica intervened a little in the novelist discussion with a defence of Esmond and a denial that the Egoist was obscure, and when she spoke every one else stopped talking and listened. “Forty guineas a week. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. I was—I was a corespondent. "Those boys out there think this is some new religious rite and that you are skinning the dog alive to eat him!" The shock of this information loosened Spurlock's grip on the dog, who bolted out of the kitchen and out of the house, maintaining his mile-a-minute gait until he reached the jungle muck, where he proceeded to neutralize the poison with which he had been lathered by rolling in the muck. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. “Ciao, Fragolina. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. Lucy's ears were singing.
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