“Thank you—for coming,” he said. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. And mind you don't arouse his suspicions. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. To Spurlock, in this hour, his conscience stood over against the Ten Commandments, one of which he had broken.
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