That is my real milieu, and one that I am convinced you would not only adorn but delight in. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “You love some one else?” he repeated. She chuckled. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows.
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