“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. If he had imagined Melusine would be hampered by her petticoats, he was disappointed. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. ’ ‘Ah. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object.
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