Gerald crossed back to the window. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. They ought to put a lamp. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. But I have not done so, and will not. Why doesn’t she marry? Plenty of money under her father’s will. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely.
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