“You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me.
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