“I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. ’ Melusine’s heart twisted. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. “I was never at any such dinner, and I am quite sure that I do not know you. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. He smothered a laugh.
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