And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. He loved to sneak up and stand ten feet or so behind you and just. "So, wanton, I have found you!" "Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the arm. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley.
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