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Eight per cent. A hansom stopped a little way off. ’ ‘But why, Marthe,’ asked Melusine, as she walked into the house. . A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. ’ She sighed relief to see a faint grin as he ventured to raise his head.

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