“I am sorry,” he said slowly. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. ‘Poor things. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger.
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