That’s— that’s my private life. ’ His head came thrusting out at Melusine like a belligerent tortoise from its shell. Once inside, he looked around, worried that his parents would suddenly cancel their trip and return home. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered.
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