For a time Spurlock did not move. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. "Oh, God! would you take him from me?— would you murder him?" "His father's name?—and he is free," rejoined Rowland, holding her arms.
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