Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. " The spinster had no retort to offer such directness. So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness.
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