"But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. ’ Gerald ignored this. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature.
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