He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. Go for it. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat.
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