It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. "What do you want with me?" "A word in private," replied the other. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. “What are you doing?” He cried. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Ann Veronica blushed.
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