Spurlock offered his hand, which Ah Cum accepted gravely. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. I hate what I have to do to survive. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp.
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