Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. ‘Ha! Just the person I want. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. . For a time Spurlock did not move. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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