The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water.
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