“I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. My reception at West Kensington you know of. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. And the woollen-draper departed. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it.
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