Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. . He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. ‘You were right, miss. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. 9.
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