The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. Capes sat watching and admiring her, and then he fell praising the day and fortune and their love for each other. Sheppard. Through it all Spurlock maintained a gaiety which deceived them completely.
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