Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. On the contrary. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. ’ ‘But, no,’ cried Melusine anxiously. I am bound to admit that I greatly enjoy my altered life. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning.
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