She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. "Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so.
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