“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively. She spoke slowly. Then her fingers moved. He would never recognize me now. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. ’ Melusine’s heart leapt, and as swiftly clattered into dead stillness as the implication of the second name hit home.
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