Paris, 18. ” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. “She has refused to listen to you?” “She has behaved in a most extraordinary manner,” he answered. ’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. I must break open the door. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. She reflected before answering. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham.
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