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Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. She was not obliged to go to the Tredgold College, because as yet the College had not settled down for the session. Heard voices. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. It makes me want to be just everything I CAN be to you. I am totally like this on my own. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth, tobacco and so forth.

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