‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. "One of us has got to die," he panted. Melusine could not wish either to know how their kindness served only to emphasise the lack in her life ensuing from Gerald’s continued absence. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. ‘But a spy I am not.
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