The child fell within a short distance of Darrell, who, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction, and caught it before it sank. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. " The Wastrel advanced. Spurlock. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. " Just then, the infant began to sob piteously.
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