Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. I just wanted a breath of air. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room.
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