" When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. Committing him to the custody of the others, Blueskin, followed by a numerous band, darted in that direction. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged.
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