“There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Spurlock looked up. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. She was emerging from the primordial as Spurlock was declining toward it. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. I hated the stuff. But there was something in his face at once stupid and invincible that told her he would go on forcing himself upon her, that he would esteem speech with her a great point gained.
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