I don’t play anything. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. “I cannot keep silence any longer. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him.
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