“—but this cannot be. ’ ‘Yes, that is what he said,’ agreed Melusine, pleased to find him of so ready an understanding. Spurlock halted in his tracks. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. He was silent. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. ‘So are you. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. ” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky. ‘I don’t know that I dare.
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