CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. He picked her up outside her last period Ceramics class. Lost ground must be regained. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Even if you pretend sometimes to be without sense. You have grown into my life. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted.
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