Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine, and louder, ‘Where are you? Call, that I may find you. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro.
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