CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. I don’t wish to marry you at all. “My Mom was a good lady. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!.
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