‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. " When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. "You were no doubt surprised by the unlooked-for intelligence I sent you of your nephew's return?" "Was it unlooked-for on your part?" demanded the knight, distrustfully. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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