“Come this way,” he said. She walked back to the car. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels.
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