” “Friendship and love being separate things. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. Spurlock slept on. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head.
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