’ A multitude of changes flitted across Melusine’s features as she stood there for a space, unusually silent. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds.
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