’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. This time there wasn't any doubt. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. "Where am I?" asked Spurlock. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. She had become neutral towards him and he had used the lesson to try to advance himself. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so.
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