We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. " "Your husband?" "No. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. ” Lucy said. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. “It’s very late. Take me with you.
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