Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon. Wood brought up. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin. “You’d have to think how to get in between his bones. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks.
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