The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. Without her, it was lonely. Her eyes were wide open with amazement.
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