’ ‘Back?’ Melusine put a hand to her aching temple. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr.
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