“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. ‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. ’ Her gaze followed the butler, who was moving towards the door.
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