Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. . I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him.
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