"Ah! now we come to business," returned Jonathan, rubbing his hands, gleefully. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. ’ ‘Melusine, did you say?’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother.
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