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CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was painted.
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