“Very well,” he said. Melusine could not wish either to know how their kindness served only to emphasise the lack in her life ensuing from Gerald’s continued absence. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. It was wonderful. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it.
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