’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. But eventually Spurlock laughed. “Beats me. She rode him gently. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. “For instance?” She smiled. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps.
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