‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Lest the carpenter should be taxed with too much uxoriousness, it behoves us to ascertain whether the personal attractions of his helpmate would, in any degree, justify the devotion he displayed. "Mr. "'T is he!" he mentally ejaculated.
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