He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. " Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. A town called Foster. ” He looked satisfied to report that Marina had decried Gianfrancesco.
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