The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. Owing to this circumstance, Mr. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner.
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