‘I have said it is not stolen,’ snapped Melusine indignantly. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. It's almost incredible. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. Warm life was behind that always, even if it slept. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. She must not show anything. It was better even than the hymn-singing. ’ Melusine could not suppress a smile.
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