’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. It’s to do with adolescence. "Why do you ask?" rejoined the other haughtily. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. She could even think of what had happened. Melusine shrugged.
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