“You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. "The doctor said something about that. " So saying, he left the room. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. I shall count it a privilege. You have betrayed me. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. He will say who it was.
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