” “He seems like such a nice boy. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. Always as black and bitter as gall. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine. She had nothing to say for herself. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch.
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