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The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. He kissed her lightly on the lips.
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