’ ‘But why, Marthe,’ asked Melusine, as she walked into the house. Melusine started back, blinking. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. My father was Colonel Pellissier.
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