’ Mrs Ibstock’s lips tightened and she looked away a moment. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do.
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