As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped. ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly. "I have nothing to forgive. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. Is this man Hill dead?” She shook her head. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. “You are in luck, Miss Pellissier,” he declared.
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