In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. At last he could bear it no longer. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. ’ She was obliged to acknowledge the justice of this complaint, and moved further into the passage to allow the men access.
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