As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. You can have no shecrets from me. And then—this sudden thrust. No girl with a face like that…. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. Gerald was instantly on the alert.
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