She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. ‘Before she can think of marriage, Melusine must prove her identity.
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