"You hear that," cried Mrs. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder.
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