Now, the reward?" "I have but an ill-furnished purse. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. I would that you were my own. ” Lucy chuckled at the sacrilegious comment, though it was a very old one. She moved a little nearer to him. Kneebone?" "He'd better not," muttered Blueskin. Courtlaw stood up. She cried out his name in ecstasy. There are, then, in this sorry world, people who can be disinterestedly kind!" The doctor laughed, gave Spurlock's shoulder a pat, and left the room.
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