. ’ Melusine withdrew her hand. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. "Why you wouldn't stand in the way of his good fortune surely? I'll be a second father to him, I tell you. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. “Who?” She asked. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance.
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