But you’ve got to lend me forty pounds. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime. She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor.
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