"I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. “She can’t go now. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely.
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