" At luncheon, preoccupied in thought, Spurlock did not notice the pallor on Ruth's cheeks or the hunted look in her eyes. “All right. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. ’ He sighed. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. He could have her in the car but she preferred a more private setting.
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