Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. “Very well,” he said, “I will go. Shari smiled and Mike whispered to her. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see. We’ll go.
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