’ Melusine could not suppress a smile. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. Damn! I’ve splashed. But I found it no laughing matter, I can assure you. It was only when they came into a square that daylight had a positive quality. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice.
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