" Which was literally the truth. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. CHAPTER XII. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. She held out her arms to him and smiled. It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise.
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