‘Do not speak any more for you give yourself pain,’ said Melusine fearfully. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it.
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