" Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. Especially when they wear cologne. "Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground.
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