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" "Mine is Howard Spurlock. ” He closed the door of 109 in her face. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. ” She shocked him by that. Spurlock stepped into the room. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look.
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