But eventually Spurlock laughed. From now on, you’re going to listen to me for a change. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. She refused to eat. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms.
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