" "As you will," said Jonathan, seating himself. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. ‘Gammon. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. You get one, you get them all. He crawled underneath the covers with her. Age is set, impervious to innovations. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them.
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