Collins, you can go now. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. “Before I met you I was deluded into receiving upon friendly terms a man named Hill, who passed himself off as Meysey Hill the railway man, but who was in reality an Englishman in poor circumstances. ’ ‘Better than to live at the hands of a villainous blackmailer,’ Melusine threw at him. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her.
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