’ The fury welled. His glance came up again and met hers. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. I married—I married a woman whom I still think one of the most beautiful persons in the world. Lucy's ears were singing. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. Little by little, she stopped hating him.
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