‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. Unlocking a cupboard, he then took out some cold meat and other viands, with a flask of wine, and a bottle of brandy, and began to eat and drink voraciously. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position.
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