’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. We men are like children. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. I know that in my heart I would take whatever he gave. Predictably, Charvill turned on him. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. It is a matter of degree. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won.
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