Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. I could not hear his heart beat. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. Until the age of five she adored him. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten.
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