"Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. “It does nothing but sit there. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books.
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