"I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks.
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