"The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. ’ ‘How can you say so?’ protested Melusine. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. She helped him take it off. "I cannot sign it," returned Trenchard.
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