‘s as mad as any of you, in spite of all his respectability; not a bit of him straight anywhere, not one bit. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. She fidgeted and looked away. ” He nodded twice, with his eyes on the fire, as though that was a formal statement. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve.
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