” A man of infinite tact and kindness, he spoke his message and went. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. His lips parted in a rare smile. For nothing they kiss.
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