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"You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. ” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. If he had imagined Melusine would be hampered by her petticoats, he was disappointed.
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