“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. I naturally want to do it up in proper style. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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