” “I know. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. His figure was uncommonly slim even for his age, which could not be more than thirteen; and the looseness of his garb made him appear thinner than he was in reality. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. Were such a thing to happen again, I'd never let Mr. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. He whispered in her ear.
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