(“Good job. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. And more boys die than girls, so that the real disproportion among adults is even greater. ‘I know, Melusine.
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