The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back.
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