But there was a face pressed to the glass. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. ‘As I said, a mistake. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. ’ ‘In any event,’ Gerald told her, with a grin, ‘I can’t marry this one.
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