“Homely?” “Well, yeah, that’s what he said. ‘And you!’ shrieked Melusine. I never met your sister in Paris, but I heard about her more than once. “Yes. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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