CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. In all other respects they differed as materially. “In a sense—yes. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. I should have gone mad without it. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. “So Mr. Epithalamy might do.
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