Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. Stanley as they drew alongside, to account for his own ruffled and heated expression. Next moment, he had Melusine by the arm. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable.
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