He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “To me it seems serious enough. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. Which, let me assure you, villain, will not be so far away. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. For a time she promenaded the room. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy.
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