She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken.
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