Play foul, and win. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. Why should God give particular attention to such a prayer, when He had ignored all others? Certainly there was a trap somewhere. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship.
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