Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. "If you loiter in this way, old Wood will catch us. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father.
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