"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. A bad man, in fact.
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