He filled his pipe slowly. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. ’ Before she could object, Melusine found herself hustled back into the house and dragged willy-nilly towards the library door, where Jack called softly. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release.
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