Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. "Get a chair, Austin. " "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you. Still, they bob up occasionally. On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation.
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