“Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. Howard Spurlock. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. “I will put the question,” Drummond said gravely. " "No fear of that," laughed Kneebone.
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