" "Have you told her?" "Told her? Told her what?" Spurlock sat straight in his chair. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. "I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home.
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