Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. ’ ‘Idiot. . Get out your pad and pencil. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons.
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