To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. ’ ‘But why?’ asked Melusine, astonished, and somewhat overwhelmed by the other girl’s volubility.
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