” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone. Her back stiffened. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. "To-morrow night!" said Spurlock, in a wondering whisper. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Ruth loved him.
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