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What his head conceived his hand executed. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. It would be swindling.

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