‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. She did not think Ann Veronica would do as her companion. Maybe half a year, counting this summer.
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