’ ‘Melusine, sir,’ Gerald reminded the general, exchanging a frustrated glance with Mrs Sindlesham. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. “I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you.
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