During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. "Did you ever hear me whine?" "No," admitted McClintock "You've no objection to my dropping in again later, after your guests go?" "No. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act.
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