“Never mind, old chap,” he declared. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. ’ Lucilla sat up.
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