" Spurlock pointed in the sloping fields outside the walls. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. “Anna! Thank God I have found you at last.
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