The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. " "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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