Balked, Melusine halted. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal.
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