All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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