To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. His initial nervousness had already abated, and it took some valour to allow himself to become embroiled in Melusine’s crazy schemes. They had heard nothing, seen nothing. ” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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