. . Capes sat down in the armchair beside her. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him.
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