Spurlock grew cold. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. " "You will call for it before six months are passed," rejoined Jack, sternly. "With your friends, dear Mrs. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.
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