’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. McClintock's heart went out to Spurlock; he would always be the boy's friend, even though he had dragged this girl on to the rocks with him. Light flooded the place. "Enough," said the widow, gratefully. ’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way.
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