“What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. Although Melusine had taken care to trouble herself about the hand she had cut, and was glad to find it healing very well. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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