’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. It was a mass of knick-knacks.
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