’ ‘Miss Melusine Charvill,’ he repeated, ‘is a convent-bred genteel girl, who is in all probability the granddaughter of General Lord Charvill. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. I was worried. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard.
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