Her cheeks were aflame. " There was a brief, breathless pause. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time.
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