“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. He will be dependent on you. Look at the cock’s feathers, look at the competition there is everywhere, except among humans. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. She wanted to know.
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