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He looked eager and flushed and troubled. ’ ‘I do not think so,’ Melusine agreed, still puzzled. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. She stared at him. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall.
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