” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. She will tell you all the story while I am gone. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you.
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