The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. Come in! Come in, do. Saviour's Church.
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