"When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. Besides, your remark is not in the least complimentary. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. Mon cher major, Melusine began.
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