" "Pish!" cried Jack: "I don't value his anger a straw. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. She realized in a moment what had happened. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows.
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