She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle. "Oh, easily enough," rejoined the other. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. Probably she was married years ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house. His face clouded with anger. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed.
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