“Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. ’ ‘Marry you!’ He shot off the desk, such horror in his face that Melusine felt a little irritated. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely.
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