His glasses were gone. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. He had certain orders from which on no account was he to deviate. It was years before your time. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant.
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