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Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. Wood could stand it no longer. "Where am I?" asked Spurlock. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy.
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