She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. You're a queer lad. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. 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. A shudder rippled across his shoulders.
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