Mr. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. . ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. “There is no doubt whatever about that.
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