“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Our ideal had fallen. My death, probably. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. Presently she saw Spurlock on the way to the lagoon. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler.
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