From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. It was not your fault you failed. ’ But I made sure it was you. "And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. Spurlock's vision was oddly of the past. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. Well, what about it?" "I accept. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. ” “I don’t know.
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