’ Noting the twinkle in her great-aunt’s eye, Melusine forebore to comment, grateful to Lucilla for adjuring Captain Roding to give an account of himself. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo.
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