F. Perhaps she was. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. "Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. ” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion. For a long time neither spoke again. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen.
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