Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. ‘You should be. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below.
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