So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute.
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