Spurlock was by nature orderly, despite his literary activities. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. “It’s THE Society!” said Miss Miniver. He would know her address to-morrow. She had a warm, fun-loving personality, and an unflattering disrespect for her future husband’s authority. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house.
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