Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. It was Annabel’s. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. The screams of the unfortunate woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought.
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