" "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly.
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