“She wasn’t sane, my wife. . “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. Your uncle—our uncle is with him. 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. ’ ‘Eh?’ Gerald grinned at Hilary’s blank expression, and was gratified when the girl turned a brilliant smile upon himself. .
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