I always told you some accident would happen. And you tell me that the reason you are doing all this is so that you can marry an Englishman!’ Melusine giggled. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him.
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