Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. ‘Can’t you see he is not a gentleman with whom one can argue?’ ‘You think so?’ Melusine said dangerously, and her eyes flashed as she swept about again and confronted her grandfather once more.
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