He had heard nothing. “Here is my card. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. Kneebone made his appearance. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff.
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