The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. ‘I knew it.
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