“I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. "Thanks. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. I'm in a funk," Spurlock confessed. She cried and sobbed in fits.
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