Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. “Please not now. "So, wanton, I have found you!" "Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the arm. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up.
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