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No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster. ” “Then come back. "I don't know; I really don't know. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. Melusine—the real Melusine—would never have made such a stupid mistake. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. White, my landlady, believes his story. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait.
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