He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively. She went into premature labor. Farewell.
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