And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. ’ ‘Melusine,’ repeated the old lady. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage.
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