A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Prudence shook her head. He was entranced as she walked towards him. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. “I can’t endure it,” she said. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvantages of some scheme he had in contemplation. “Two days’ notice shall be sufficient on either side. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled.
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