Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it. “How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. The doctor reached over and laid his hand upon Spurlock's heart. Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr.
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