. ” Nigel Ennison looked up with a little start. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. His initial nervousness had already abated, and it took some valour to allow himself to become embroiled in Melusine’s crazy schemes. His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears, and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm.
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