Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. She could no longer wait. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. " Her island! How well he knew it, thought Spurlock, for all he lacked the name and whereabouts! Suddenly a new thought arose and buffeted him.
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