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‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though.

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