‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. ‘Tell me, my boy. She had heard Alice talking and crying at the same time, a painful noise. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. I had to go at a moment’s notice.
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