But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. Not entirely.
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