‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. Still, he was puzzled because McClintock had not spoken. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. "Do you think we are to be disturbed in this way? Make less noise, hussies, or I'll turn you out of the Lodge. The way—the way we are led on! We are taught to believe we are free in the world, to think we are queens. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers.
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