His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. G. The elements were wrathful as their passions. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald.
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