Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. "Do you mean to tell me he's come and gone in an hour? What the devil kind of a father is he?" Spurlock shook his head.
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